Match.com personals. Fun-loving gal, 42, likes long walks on the beach, long Sunday afternoons at Linens 'n' Things, bridge . . . PLEASE KILL ME
Livejournal. How I'm feeling: bored.
Song stuck in my head: "Raspberry Beret."
Air of mystery that once surrounded me: gone.
Drinks with "sexy" names. Bar patrons who order a "screaming orgasm," "sex on the beach," "blow job," or "long slow screw against the wall" are
77% less likely to get laid than the ones drinking beer. Wonder why?
Pilates. Yoga minus the kinky contortions. There are better ways to spend an hour on your back.
Valium. It gained fame as the drug that kept Donna Reed fem-bots from having nervous breakdowns and burning the roast. Except you're not cute
like Donna Reed. You're just slurring your speech. Stop it.
Over-grooming. Being clean and neat is good. People appreciate a white smile and trimmed fingernails. If you're spending time and money getting
your asshole bleached, step back for a sec. (don't groan, I read an article about this!!)
Continentals. Everything sounds sexy with an outrageous accent. Sure, whatever they say seems profound, but that's because their 300-word
vocabulary was gleaned entirely from Doors records. Context, people!
All-over tans. Frequently accompanied by a clean-shaved pubic region, a pot belly and a NASCAR visor. A deep-tanned penis looks like a dry-cured
meat snack you bought at a gas station. Tan lines = hot!
The Mile High Club. You hear a lot about horny, uncreative couples ducking into airplane restrooms together. What you don't hear about are
sprained knees, the smell of disinfectant, and the very real possibility of
being sucked through the toilet to your death.