PERHAPS you hadn’t heard, but over the years, we’ve become something of a magnet for people in desperate need of answers. It’s getting so we can’t walk outside without being swarmed by individuals bombarding us with queries (hey, Mr. Annoying Guy on our front lawn: we’ll pay those bills when we’re good and ready). Still, along with the occasional question about money (cash, check or credit card?) we frequently find ourselves inundated with unsolicited pleas from strangers on the street asking us for help in Various and Sundry Areas (No, we can’t move our car. Yes, we do get our hair done locally. No, our contact lenses are not tinted to this “particular” shade of blue. Yes, we do know which aisle the Depends are on. No, we can’t take time to fill out your stupid petition, Senator). Alas, no one’s asked us for advice around here, but, if you know anything about us (and you probably don’t) we’re not going to let that stop us from casting out a few pearls of wisdom.
FOR the record (which could very well wind up being read to a jury of our peers): Yes, we did find the following Real Q’s from Real People after doing an extensive 12 second Google search. And, no, not one of ’em actually asked for our help. We call those things “details”. With luck, no one will ever find out what we’ve said about them behind their hapless and/or helpless backs… (if it makes any of YOU feel better, think of this bit o’ Q & A as Aunt Bea’s ADDled Advice. That’s what we plan to do, should we attempt this “feature” again)
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Aieeee!
My husband wants to go on a dangerous expedition. I am so afraid he will never come home. He has always been an outdoor lover and has taken many trips, but this trip will tax him maximally. People have died. He says he wants to go now before we have children. What can I do to stop him? ~ Pretty Polly in Poughkeepsie
Helpful Response:
This is a tricky situation many a young couple have faced. We know because we, too, were half of a young couple when our (ex) husband decided to “spread his wings” in order to “see the world” before we “had kids”. He said he wanted to live dangerously, and we completely understood. Funny how his desire to experience an adrenalin rush turned to terror when we locked him in the basement the night he first brought up the subject. Long story short… once the inquiry was over, and the attorney’s fee was paid, we wound up with a sweet settlement that’s kept us in Aquanet and Chamomile Tea since 1963.
Still, Polly — if that’s who you are — not everyone is in possession of a properly sealed off basement. If you fall into that category, might we suggest chaining Mr. Dangerous Expedition to the radiator? Either that, or make an effort to grab a bit o’ his sperm while the gettin’s good. Trust us, nothing says “let’s make a baby” like soft music, a glass of wine and a turkey baster. So what if Mr. Honey, I Need More Danger is swimming with the sharks off the coast of Brazil? With luck, and one good spurt, you’ll soon be experiencing the joys of morning sickness while, at the same time, bemoaning your bulging belly, despite the fact you’ve only been pregnant for a little over a week.
By the time your husband returns, he’ll wonder what you needed him for in the first place… and so will you.
Oh-Nooooo!
Help! I’m a middle-aged man who has been married for 20 years. I own a duplex in a nice neighborhood. Last week, I put an ad in the paper and a 21-year-old woman came to look at the upstairs apartment. The problem is, I found her attractive and had sex with her downstairs while my wife was not home. What should I do? ~ Couldn’t Help Myself in NY
Helpful Response:
Could you “help” yourself if you lived somewhere else? Kidding. We Kid.
This is a tricky situation many a middle-aged man has faced. We know, because we, too, were a middle-aged man in a past life. Oh the fun we used to have, chasing 21-year old women through the Halls of Montezuma. Thank goodness our loving wives (Celestiña, Carmen, you know who you were) never found out. Of course, they did try to chain us to the Stone of Tizoc one night, but we managed to escape, thanks in no small part to the key we kept hidden in the heel of our snake skin sandal. Good times… But, as we’re wont to do when channeling our inner Aztec warrior, we digress. What should you do? Take a good long look in the mirror, bub. That’s the face of a middle-aged asshole. The question is not “what should YOU do”, the question is “what will your WIFE do once she finds out?” Because she will find out.
PS: What kind of rent are you charging, and does it include utilities? Also, does the apartment have a radiator?
Arggh!
Aren’t condoms for sissies? ~ Hot To Trot in Kalamazoo
Helpful Response:
That depends. If by “sissies” you mean “people who hope to contract an STD for the purposes of seeing their own penis break out in a little something our past-life wife, Celestiña, called “burning bumps”, which eventually causes the aforementioned penis to shrivel up and fall on the floor”, then yes. Because, really, when was the last time you heard of someone’s penis falling on the floor? Okay, aside from that Unfortunate Incident when Lorena Bobbitt decided to take John’s fate into her own hands — altho’ in that case, if memory serves — and, according to our medium, Madame Le Foúffe, it does — Little John Bobbitt wound up by the side of the road, in Manassas.
Trust us, Real Men use condors. Nothing says “watch where you put that thing” like a vulture hovering over your dick.
~snuppy (aka: Crazy Aunt Bea)
PS and D’OH! in our haste knock out this “post” we completely forgot what day it is. Thank you, oh wondrous Non-Crazy and/or ADDled TLP for reminding us! (we miss you and are sorry we’ve not been around)
(FYI: this picture is one of the many “forms” of Bunny Suicides.)
Answers to Hahaha? are found on HUMOR-BLOGS.COM.
THANK goodness we have friends who love us so much they feel compelled to share Helpful Marriage Tips with us at the drop of a soufflé and/or the click of a high heel. After reading through the following bits o’ advice, however, we couldn’t help but wonder: how in the wide wide world of Martha Stewart did we mange to muddle our way through 23 years of marriage without knowing this shit information? Information, we hasten to add, laid out in rich and beautiful detail — which seems as completely relevant now as it was when it first graced the gloriously domestic pages of Good Housekeeping, back in 1955. We used to wonder why our mom drank so much. Now, not only do we understand, we can’t figure out why on Earth she didn’t run away from home when she had the chance.
How To Be A “Good” Wife
1. Have dinner ready. Plan ahead, even the night before, to have a delicious meal ready, on time for his return. This is a way of letting him know that you have been thinking about him and are concerned about his needs. Most men are hungry when they come home (because they’ve been drinking all day) and the prospect of a good meal — especially his favorite dish (pizza? canned soup? cereal?) — is part of the warm welcome needed.
2. Prepare yourself. Take 15 minutes to rest so you’ll be refreshed when he arrives. Touch up your make-up, put a ribbon in your hair and be fresh-looking (brush your teeth. pluck that chin hair). Remember, your husband has just been with a lot of work-weary people! (including Lola, his assistant, who’s measurements are 46-23-35)
3. Be a little gay and a little more interesting for him. His boring day may need a lift and one of your duties is to provide it. (in other words, bend over and take it up the ass?)
4. Clear away the clutter. Make one last trip through the main part of the house just before your husband arrives. (at the very least, make sure Ramón, the cabana boy, is no longer hiding in the closet)
5. Gather up schoolbooks, toys, paper, etc. and then run a dust cloth over the tables. (or take away your husband’s white gloves and/or hand him the friggin’ mop, because, damn.)
6. Over the cooler months of the year you should prepare and light a fire for (and/or under) him to unwind by. Your husband will feel he has reached a haven of rest and order, and it will give you a lift, too. After all, catering for his comfort will provide you with immense personal satisfaction (especially if you’re stoned and/or basking in the glow of that sweaty romp you had earlier in the day with Ramón).
7. Prepare the children. Take a few minutes to wash the children’s hands and faces (if they are small), comb their hair and, if necessary, change their clothes. They are little treasures and he would like to see them playing the part. Minimize all noise. At the time of his arrival, eliminate all noise of the washer, dryer or vacuum. Try to encourage the children to be quiet. (if necessary, use drugs and/or a muzzle)
8. Be happy to see him (pretend he’s someone else, like say, Ramón)
9. Greet him with a warm smile and show sincerity in your desire to please him
10. Listen to him. You may have a dozen important things to tell him but the moment of his arrival is not the time. Let him talk first — remember, his topics of conversation are more important than yours. (Calls from the bill collector, Junior’s broken arm and/or a pay raise for the hard working cabana boy are nothing compared to your husband’s hilarious story of how the boss called Marty in Accounting, “Sid”)
11. Make the evening his. Never complain if he comes home late or goes out to dinner, or other places of entertainment without you. Instead, try to understand his world of strain and pressure and his very real need to be at home and relax. (Lipstick on his collar? No worries, a little Tide will take out that stain in no time. For future reference, cold water works best on blood)
12. Your goal: Try to make sure your home is a place of peace, order and tranquility where your husband can renew himself in body and spirit. (Or, upon finding that stain on his collar and the hotel room key in his pocket, kill him. That way his “spirit” will be “free”)
13. Don’t greet him with complaints and problems (rolling pins are significantly more effective)
14. Don’t complain if he’s late home for dinner or even if he stays out all night. Count this as minor compared to what he might have gone through that day (by “through” do they mean Lola?)
15. Make him comfortable. Have him lean back in a comfortable chair or have him lie down in the bedroom. (or lay him out on the kitchen floor with the aforementioned rolling pin)
16. Have a cool or warm drink ready for him (laced with arsenic)
17. Arrange his pillow and offer to take off his shoes (and by “pillow” they mean “penis” and by “take off his shoes” they mean, “knock his socks off”)
18. Speak in a low, soothing, and pleasant voice (that way, the word “divorce” won’t sound so scary)
19. Don’t ask him questions about his actions or question his judgement or integrity. Remember, he is the master of the house and as such will always exercise his will with fairness and truthfulness. You have no right to question him (you do, however, have the right to 50% of his property and sole custody of the kids)
LAST, but certainly not least…
20. A “good” wife always knows her place.
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BELIEVE it or not… we DO have a few things to add to this “How To” List, and we plan to do just that as soon as we manage to gather up what’s left of our exploded brain (last seen scattered over the freshly mopped kitchen floor), in order to stuff it back into our fragile-yet-numb little skulls. Needless to say, that might take a while.
~snuppy
A good wife sets her computer’s default page on HUMOR-BLOGS.COM.
Editor’s Note: cleaning out the queue(ueueue?) in order to make room for new posts can be such fun. Never more so than when we virtually trip over something we’d completely forgotten about thanks to a variety of Unfortunate Incidents, The Holidays, and/or Other Stuff We Can’t Recall But Were Surely Important, Shirley. This, of course, is our way of apologizing in advance for the following — which is a missive we wrote months ago. That doesn’t mean it’s not funny, it just means it’s… old.
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INITIALLY, this post was entitled “Mind Your P’s & Q’s” but then we thought to ourselves, what the hell are P’s and Q’s? ‘Tis a question that’s plagued us since we were kids, and, even as we type, we still have NO freaking idea (okay, that’s a lie from the pits of hell, because we actually DO). But that, of course, is beside the point of today’s post. The point, which has been waiting ever so politely over in the corner, next to a pile of Peas and Q-tips, is that good manners are the foundation of good living. Truth be told, we were going to share a completely hilarious story about a football player, along with an equally hilarious-yet-informative video about masturbation, but then we saw THIS POST, and realized we needed to help a few friends rediscover their manners. Or not, because, really, we could care less about yippers and/or yappers, snippers and/or snipers. Last time we checked, the name of this blog is Central SNARK, so, you know, um, mockery is pretty much the order of each and every day.
WHAT the hell are we talking about again? Oh yeah… Diesel’s hilarious post regarding some reader’s hilarious comment. Whatever we were talking about, we’re sure we were amusing. Probably not as amusing as many of the posts that have graced the pages of this blog over the past couple of weeks, but funny, nonetheless. Come to think of it, even if we weren’t being funny, it would be rude of you not to laugh, what with the price of admission to this blog being so cheap and us being so willing to put ourselves up for ridicule day after day after day. Our sense of humor may be questionable, kids, but our sense of pride will always remain intact. That must mean something to someone.
ALL this to say: today’s “lesson” is Manners — which, according to the following ’50’s film clip, are always showing. Not unlike that piece of spinach that invariably gets stuck between your teeth on every first date and/or the stream of snot hanging out of your nose when all you wanted to do was impress the “cool kids” at that pool party in the 7th grade.
IN our heads, the last few lines of dialog went like this:
MOM: Jack is so kind at thoughtful. I’m glad I got to towel him off after his shower. My boy is so grown up. Well hung, too.
MAN ON PHONE: Fine boy that Jack Conners. I wonder what he looks like in the shower?
OLD LADY: There’s a group of well-mannered young people. I wonder what they look like in the shower?
JEAN: My eyebrows are almost as thick as Jack’s. Wonder if he’d like to sex it up with me… in the shower?
JACK: That new boy was cute. Wonder if he likes showers…
~snuppy
You are cordially invited to laugh your ass off at Humor-blogs.com.
Editor’s note: somewhere in the Blogosphere is an Exact Copy of this post, right down to the stupid title and/or punctuation marks. THIS is what we get for trying to “tweak” a post after it’s been published. If you, or anyone you know, spots the rogue missive, don’t be frightened. Stay calm. IT WON’T HURT YOU. Just let us know and we’ll pick it up, then deposit it back into the queue, where it will be allowed to live out the rest of its days in peace and comfort, alongside all the other rejects.
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A FEW weeks ago we nearly choked on our cornflakes, whilst reading the following headline on CNN.com:
Scott Baio Weds Former Backstreet Boy
WHO-whatey? Scott Baio finally got married, but instead of saying “I do” to his longtime girlfriend, Somun Nohn Bland, Chachi got hitched to a former Backstreet Boy? Does that mean the object of Joanie’s affection* is gay? Not that there’s anything wrong with that, mind you, but still, such a reality would serve to explain Baio’s long-time status as a Single Man** Naturally, we were compelled to click on the link, in hopes of learning a bit more. Needless to say, we were surprised, amused and only a teensie disappointed, then, when we finally discovered that young(ish) Scott Baio (45) — the guy we adored as Bob Loblob on Arrested Development — had indeed wed someone, but, and here’s the No Big Deal Yet Funny Kicker, so had the aforementioned “former” Backstreet Boy. No, the Backstreet Boy hadn’t wed the same someone as Baio — yeesh, keep up, will ya, this is hard enough to explain — FBB*** had simply married someone, as well. Whew. The initial CNN Headline News “headline” problem, it seems, was in the careless way some underpaid overnight writer had worded and/or punctuated the teasing sentence on the website.
OF course, Scott “I’m Not In Charge, Charles” Baio, Former Backstreet Boys and/or Arrested Development**** are all beside the point. The point, which was recently followed by a lovely and well-placed comma, is that poor punctuation can often lead to misunderstandings, which, in turn, lead to hilarity.^ A point (heh) validated by the following graphic^*, which allegedly occurred when comedian BILL MAHER appeared on the Fair and Balanced airwaves of FOX NEWS:
*Please, for the love of sitcoms, tell us you remember the insipid Happy Days spin-off, Joanie Loves Chachi.
**We have NEVER given a hoot and/or rat’s ass about the marital status of Baio, his girlfriend, OR any stupid Former Backstreet Boy
***FBB = Former Backstreet Boy. Duh.
****We share a passion for this show with at least one of our Co-Administrators (a’yup Asparagus Boy, we’re talking ’bout you)
^(after awhile, the use of an asterisk seems redundant, so we’ve opted for an inverted “v”* in hopes it will sufficiently represent the 5th (count e’m five) ridiculous footnote in today’s post) Anyone familiar with Lynne Truss’ bestseller, EATS, SHOOTS, & LEAVES, knows lousy and/or careless punctuation = hilarity.
^*Is this footnote symbol or the above graphic real*? Hell if we know. Doesn’t matter, though, because the symbol kind of looks like a wink, the graphic is a classic, and both suit the purposes of this post. So, uh, you know, shut up.
~snuppy
Everyone who loves, Chachi, loves HUMOR-BLOGS.COM.
* Oh no we di-ent. We did not just put a footnote into our footnote… or did we? Is that even legal? Do we care? We do not. We just wanted to tell you the graphic is fake, something that we managed to find out by peering at the lower left corner of the picture with a large magnifying glass. You — and you know who — are welcome.
EVERY stinking time we hear (and/or say) that line we totally crack up. Because, let’s face it, one can put a “sexual” spin on just about any phrase. Unfortunately, this post has nothing to do with spins — sexual or otherwise* — for we’re guessing NO one wants to take a ride on the Dirty Sex Express after viewing Waldo’s wrinkled wares, yesterday, but that’s beside the point. The point, which almost made us blind when we saw it dangling between Waldo’s skinny legs, is that women say stupid shit leading things all the time. Naturally and/or (apparently) confusingly, what a woman wants and what comes out of her mouth aren’t always the same thing. (that’s what he said) At least that’s what one of our friends told us — the same friend who insists upon sending us silliness after silliness via e-mail.**. What? You didn’t think we ever bothered to read our Many and Often Annoying Electronic Messages? Well listen up — despite our reticence to answer everyone’s notes, we actually DO check our in-box from time to time, just to make sure it’s still working. (that’s what she said)
What She Says v. What She Means
(a tutorial for Men)
1. Fine: This is the word women use to end an argument when they are right and you need to shut up.
2. Five Minutes: If she’s getting dressed, this means a half an hour. If she’s shopping, it means 3 hours. “Five minutes” is only 5 minutes if you’ve been given time to watch the game before cleaning out the garage and/or doing the dishes.
3. Nothing: This is the calm before the storm. “Nothing” means “f*cking huge and/or horrific”. Interestingly, arguments that begin with “nothing” often end in “fine”.
4. Go ahead and/or Do it: Both are dares, NOT words of permission. Do Not, under any circumstances, “go ahead” and/or “do it”.
5. Loud sigh: Not so much a “word” as a non-verbal statement frequently misunderstood by men. A loud sigh means she thinks you’re an idiot and wonders why she’s wasting her time standing here and arguing with you about “nothing”. [see #3]
6. That’s OK: This phrase is one of the most dangerous statements a woman can make to a man. “That’s OK” means she wants to think long and hard (heh) before deciding how and when you will pay for your mistake. Because you will pay for your mistake. Oh yes, you. will. pay.
7. Whatever: This is a woman’s way of saying “fuck you”.
8. Don’t worry about it, I got it: Another dangerous statement, which loosely translated means: “Are you deaf, dumb… and blind? Do you want me to break a nail? Mother was right, you are an idiot.” This will later result in a man asking “What’s wrong?” For the woman’s response, refer back to #3.
9. I’ll think about it: Not in this lifetime, asshole.
And, finally…
10. Does this make me look fat?: Only a complete moron with a death wish would actually answer this question. Trust us, she doesn’t want to know if “this” makes her look “fat”, she wants to know if you’re still attracted to her. And not in a way that means she’s horny, so forget taking off your pants when you tell her she looks “nice”.
NOW we know what you’re thinking (those of you currently scratching your heads and/or balls, depending upon your “equipment”): is there a reason women process information differently from men? According to the following (completely hilarious) clip, there is:
AS always, we feel obliged to mention who’s behind the material we’re sharing. (that’s what he said) In this case, the sketch is the brainchild of British comedian, HARRY ENFIELD, a man, far as we can tell, who’s utterly hilarious from top to bottom. (that’s what she said)
~snuppy
Yes, you idiot, the girls are funny on HUMOR-BLOGS.COM.
*Speaking of spins (which we were) DJ LAMPSHA will surely come to the rescue with another Award Winning Spin, tomorrow, Shirley.
**Once we finally DID read our e-mail, we found a note from our favorite bloggoddess, MIZ BOHEMIA, who, as it happens, has a new post up for your enjoyment and/or perusal. Ours, too. Oh, and take your time, she’s not known for brevity, but, well worth the time/effort it takes to read her many words and/or watch her in glorious action! 😉
While looking for some photographs for a post, I paused then giggled…a lot. I don’t claim to have the tidiest of minds. Uhm, hello, I do write the naughtier romances when I’m not reading them. So it didn’t take long for my mind to smutty up something though this is the first time with an entire city.
I have a question and I’m hoping someone can help me out. Is there a reason why architecture in Chicago resembles sex toys? I find this most, uhm, “interesting”.
Welcome to my thought process.
Exhibit A: The Chicago Spire. A funky building being built now.
I will confess I didn’t read much as my mind automatically compared the design to…
Exhibit B: “the Bean” is terribly cool looking
until you notice…
And don’t even get me started on this one:
Ladies & Gentlemen, I rest my case.
Toddling town indeed. Kinda makes you wonder what the architects were up to, no? I think I need to go to Chicago. Oh wait, thanks to Doug and the Old Mule (*hint hint* what’s up boys?) I just may get to see the amazing giant vibrators architecture come to life (heh) this Spring.
~little blue pill dusting off her passport.
The Architects of Hilarity hang out at Humor-blogs.com.
WE didn’t make up that title, but, as you might imagine, our jaws dropped to the floor when we first saw it. The Trouble with… Women?? Who whatey? Needless to say, we were shocked. Shocked, we tell ya, SHOCKED. What corporate asshole decided such a training film would help make life easier for men and/or women on the job, huh? Beats the hell outta us. Actually, now that we think about it (based on the company that procured this Informative Video in the first place), we guess it was an Aluminum Corporate Asshole dedicated to the concept of, and we quote, “factory management and maintenence“, back in 1959, when women in the workplace were, apparently, a bigger issue than keeping up with production demands. (that’s what he said)
NATURALLY, we watched, and guess what? We found it not just enlightening, but flat out hilarious. Being the clever girls we are at any given moment of any given daydream that we are, we quickly realized it could provide a little decent fodder for Sex, Ed? Especially appropriate, we thought, on a day that lands conveniently on the heels of a labor-related holiday dedicated to folks just like the ones you’re about to watch. (Trust us, that would have made SO much more sense had we posted this on Labor Day, which was our original intention. Not sure why that didn’t happen — also not sure why Labor Day isn’t a variation on Mother’s Day, but perhaps that’s another discussion for some other silly post-holiday post. Speaking of “labor”, are we the only ones who think The Holidays are hella lot of work?)
IS it just us, or was that dialog disturbing on more levels than originally intended? “I asked for a man?” (stand in line, Mary) “We don’t have a man with… her qualifications?” (like what, a vagina?) “If you treat her right she might make you a darn good employee?” (if you treat her wrong, she’ll beat the shit out of you?) “They’re good workers”?? AIEEEE. Our heads, our heads! What the hell? Oh, and P.S., don’t think we don’t wish we’d been in Myrtle Malloy’s place when Brad told her to “move” to another part of the building. Receiving Brad? RECEIVING?? How’d you like to receive a Sandwíche de Knucklé courtesy of our fist, Brad? Sigh. Sadly, what Brad failed to share with his boss — and what poor troubled and/or under-performing Myrtle didn’t see coming (do they ever?) — was that she wound up in “receiving” all right, which is where she remained until she could “receive” no more. Brad’s not just an asshole, he’s insatiable.
YOU see, fortunately for Brad (unfortunately for Myrtle), he eventually came to realize his Real Trouble with Women had less to do with the fact that they were “stupid“, and more to do with the fact that, thanks to Unfortunate Looks and/or Personality, unless he had one locked up in “receiving”, no woman in her right mind would give him the time of day, let alone service his “assilascope”. Which was why he resorted to such extreme measures to get ’em to comply with his “needs” on the job, in the first place. Yes, what some were quick to view as “oppressive working conditions”, Brad fondly referred to as “Leverage”. That Brad…
~snuppy
Believe it or not, sometimes the girls are WAY funnier than the boys on Humor-blogs.com.
*ED NOTE: So wrong of us to whip (heh) this post out of the queue — especially since we initially wrote it months ago. That said, we’re nothing if not “wrong-minded” (and/or, according to DIESEL, “whiners” — something he mentioned whilst mocking our complaints about being knocked off the Humor-blogs radar this past week. Well sor-ree we hate not being in the top 5 on the stupid side-bar of humor-blogs.com, Diesel — if that’s your real name.) Whatever… we need to make room for much more holiday-related humor, which is why we were cleaning out the queue in the first place. Guessing you kids won’t mind today’s little offering too terribly much, or, if you do, will help us put additional pressure on a certain LITTLE BLUE PILL, in hopes she’ll come (heh) through with a few more Sex, Ed? posts for us in the future. 😉
“If you ever discover that what you’re seeing is a play within a play, just slow down, take a deep breath, and hold on for the ride of your life.” ~Jack Handey
YEAH YEAH — it’s Friday, and that means we’re supposed to be talking about S.E.X. Well guess what? Because someone we all love* is currently in a state of despair over the health of her mother, we can’t bring ourselves to get too terribly down and “dirty”. Instead we’d prefer to stay up (that’s what he said, after popping a little blue pill) and lofty (that’s what she said from atop her high horse, after realizing there was NO way in hell to keep up with him). Nope, we’re all about the “insightful” this week (or we are as of now), which is why we’ve decided to link you all to the One, the Only, the Official…
NATURALLY, we realize not everyone is familiar with Jack Handey’s wonderful wordsmithery, but guess what? We don’t care. That’s right, we think his writings, while on the quirky side of “odd” — are nothing short of brilliantly hilarious, and suspect most of you will eventually come to love his stuff as much as we do. In the process we’re hoping that maybe, just maybe you’ll find yourselves a little faux inspiration to help you muddle through the upcoming weekend.
Speaking of all things up ‘n coming (down boys)… we promise to tackle something decidedly more tantalizing and/or “visceral” next week, assuming everyone’s in the mood for that sort of thing. That said, anyone desperate for a little Sex, Ed? can always click on that picture at the top of the page in order to be whisked off to the post that kicked this feature off in the first place, the one we happily referred to as: Hot Sex. Just saying, no one’s stopping you from having a “good time”. We’re just suggesting you do so without our help.
ADDENDUM: you kids might also like to visit MORGAN for other thoughts on having a good time on your own. Nothing says “excessive self-pleasuring” like a Vibrator Exchange. Oy.
~snuppy
It takes a big man to cry, but it takes a bigger man to laugh at that man. Unless the crybaby’s upset because he just couldn’t grasp the “funny” on Humor-blogs.com — in which case everyone gets to laugh because, man, that guy’s pathetic.
*ON a more personal note: please keep Gina (aka “Lampsha”) and her family in your hearts, thoughts, and prayers today as they grieve for their mother, who passed away yesterday morning. Gina, please know how much we all love you, and how saddened we are to know of your loss. Your mother must have been an extrordinary woman — and I have no doubt she will be missed terribly. xox Neva (aka “snuppy”)
Filed under: Sex, Ed?
We are all products of how we were raised and well how we were informed about life and how life comes to be formed. Last week as my daughter was getting ready for school some “facts-of-lifey” type of statement was raised. My husband answered, “You’ll learn that in Biology in 7th Grade.” I scowled at him and said to Tali, “You know Daddy’s a bit old school. He learned about the facts of life in the stone ages when it was taught like this:
CaveMan: Ummmm pretty cave woman. Me like.
Drag by hair. Boom Boom. We make baby. Me hunt.”
The facts of life. The End.
I assured her that I would do my best to give her a better talk than that when she wasn’t ready to hop on the school bus. Time passes. Fast forward to a day later as Tali sat doing her homework.
Tali: “What’s an X rated movie?”
Me: “Where did you hear about an x rated movie?”
After a small amount of prodding (that included nothing sharp): “Well, on the bus, Daniella said that when she walked in the hallway past her mother’s bedroom she was watching an x rated movie.”
Me: “Tali, maybe it wasn’t x-rated, maybe people were kissing, blah, blah, blah…”
So I start to explain the facts in a slightly more evolved manner than the caveman example. “When two people love….” Tali’s eyes are bursting over trying not to laugh. So I do the mature thing any mother would do trying to make her daughter feel comfortable about her body and sexuality and setting the tone for comfort with herself for years to come – I burst out laughing. Then she did too.
I asked her when she was discussing this moment with someone, say someone taking notes, in the years to come to please let her memory be kind. Of course Mommy wasn’t laughing at her, just well maybe a little at her – but mostly with her as she laughed at Mommy.
I wish I had had the benefit of this film to review prior to our talk. It certainly makes it all so understandable:
So see, my kids could certainly have done a lot worse when it comes to straightforward talk about the facts of life.
That’s it, short and sweet. The truth is I send my kids over to Humor-blogs.com for the facts of life.
Posted by: Lampsha (a/k/a G of Simply Said)
I am pretty sure I am not the right person to do this around here, partly because I might be one of the youngest contributers and I bet you anything we Europeans have a different style to begin with. So I will leave you with this rather charming truth:
For no other reason than pure mathematics I would like to point out that the female brain picture had 33 KB and the male brain 11.
I rest my case!
~penguin out!
No need to worry about brains over at Humor-blogs.com – I think.
Central Snark 