Okay, I’m going to kick off with a really old joke, one of the first ones my Dad taught me when I was really young. A guy and his wife are fighting ALL the time, like cats and dogs, she’s a bitch and he’s a sonofabitch. He’s going out drinkin’ and the kitchen is closed. No more make-up, he stops using deodorant. House looks like a sty and it’s just getting worse and worse. Sooo…the guy comes up with an idea. He’s gonna kill her and be done with it, only he really doesn’t like the prospect of 50 years in jail. Soooo. He gets an idea. That night he decides he’s going to screw his wife…to DEATH. No prison, no problem and the plan is cast. That night, he goes to it. Up, Down, round and round, from the chandelier, tied to the bed, he keeps trying to do her in and finally, he gives up in defeat. He wasn’t able to kill her. Next morning, he wakes up. He smells coffee perking…plus ham and eggs and French toast. He wanders into the kitchen…which is immaculate…and she’s wearing that little black skirt he bought her way back when, only no undies and no bra. She says, “Hey Babe! Ya hungry?”
Now, I know some naysayers out there who’ll roll their eyes or worse…raise an eyebrow, but the title to the short issue this week is this: SEX: The Temporary Answer to the Permanent Problem: Not Enough SEX.
The subtitle to this article is: Are You Trying to Tell Me that MORE SEX is the Answer to EVERYTHING? Basically….YES! Sex is, indeed, the answer to EVERYTHING!
Allow me to give you an example: Let’s say that you or your wife are getting a little older, wrinklier, beefier (a polite way to say, fat) and…you’re down in the dumps. You’re saying that having SEX will cure the doldrums? Yeah, I really am! More than that, it helps cure the problem. Sex burns calories and makes you want to look better. All good stuff!
Let’s say something more tangible comes along: Your mortgage rate just increased, as did your medical and one of you just dinged-in the Audi in the parking lot. You’re not saying that SEX will cure that will you? Actually…….YES! It cures that, too. I guarantee you that if you have some wild, toe-curling sex, you won’t even care if you’ve got pieces of deer antler hanging off the bumper.
Getting a bit arthritic, suicidal, life has little or no meaning anymore? Guess what. To my knowledge no one on the planet has ever had mind-blowingly great sex and then gone out and jumped off a bridge. I’m pretty sure of that.
Okay, you just had the worst possible argument on the planet. The big guns were brought out…the Nukes launched. At that point there’s not a whole lot you can do…….except just maybe, you could go up to your mate and say, “Hey, I’m as hot as a firecracker…you wanna boink?” I give you 70-30 odds you’ll be in the sack….IF you make your eyes twinkle when you’re saying it. Really! It works! Don’t ask me why.
Let’s see…what else? Your kid didn’t get accepted to Harvard….or worse than that, he DID get accepted and you’re saddled with four more years of poverty. The answer? Anyone getting the gist of this article? YEAH… Sex doesn’t solve the problem so much as it makes it go away for…a pretty long time. And by the time you’re getting ready to be depressed again…guess what, it’s time to have MORE SEX!
Now…. Again, if you’re queasy on the subject, it’s time to bail-the-hell-out. It really is. Otherwise, I want no complaining in the aftermath of e-mails: The truth is I’m not talking about, slipping into your neatly pressed pajamas and turning down the sheets. I’m talking about bringing the bottle of olive oil to bed with you (extra virgin not really necessary). Gargle, make sure you have LOTS of saliva on every one of your fingers, toes, nose, tongue, wiener, hair, did I mention tongue? They should all be ready to wiggle and explore to go where no man has gone…in at least the last day and a half.
Should you bring anyone to bed with you? Sure…but only inside your head. There’s an old, old song that has the line, “Brother, you can’t go to jail for what you’re thinking,” and it’s true. I’m pretty sure that my wonderful wife, Pamela, sometimes brings Raylan Givens to bed (Justified) and once in a while, Wolverine, (X-men) and God knows who else. She offered to buy me a white cowboy hat and…if it ever shows up I’ll wear it. And…sometimes I’m making love to Pamela, only she’s back in college, or a camp counsellor, or selling Girl Scout cookies… or she’s a pole dancer, ballet dancer (which she was) and she’s still in her tutu. Doesn’t matter. But you gotta commit….just like that guy in the cartoon. Do…or Die.
Life sometimes stinks. People can be a profound disappointment. You didn’t go as high in the corporation as you imagined. Or, you never got that best seller, broke 200K a year…whatever. Well, if the guy cutting your grass is going home at night and having 15 times more sex than you are…I’m betting he’s at least five times happier.
Yeah, Sex is the answer (at least the temporary answer) to just about EVERYTHING.
Think of the most vile politician you can imagine, the one with the permanent stick up his fanny. Then picture him just having the best sex in his life. I bet he’ll be a happier camper.
No need to e-mail and complain because…you were warned!
P.S. Two things: Pamela just edited this and strongly suggested that I insert the word, “boink” to replace the word “fuck” because…well…that’s a pretty nasty word and no one has ever heard it before. Also she suggested that I add (and I quote) “Sex is the Glue that Keeps a Marriage Together.” Now, I find that kinda yucky to think about. Eeww….