Don't Point That Thing At Me...

**Re-published by request.  Original post appeared Sept 2010.


Let's face it kids; there are some things in this world that we just don't always have the time and patience to deal with.

As a kinda young, sorta hip, reasonably sexy woman, I am often faced with things that I don’t want. Emails about hair loss or Viagra, for example. Brazilian waxes. Math. And more often than not, boners.

 

They seem to come out of nowhere, with the least provocation. I mean, the simple act of waking up in the morning will excite a man to the consistency of a rock. He doesn’t look expectantly at his sheets and say, “Well, are you going to finish this, or what?” Yet my opposable thumbs mean I’m eternally responsible for getting rid of Mr. Wiggly.

Now normally, I heart penises. Really, they’re great. A little funny-looking, not exactly a box of kittens, but no big whoop... sometimes, though, you’re just not in the mood to deal with them. Sometimes you just want to go home, watch the last 6 episodes of "It's Always Sunny In Philadelphia" and Google random stuff.

So what’s a girl to do? A hand job may sound like a good idea but it can quickly become a trap; I learned when I was 17 that the ol' I’m-sure-you-can-do-it-better-yourself excuse will only mean you have a different job. A job called blow. In order to escape both of these, you’ll need to be crafty. Tricky. Horrifically unattractive. Here’s a list of my favorite lines for penis-proofing your evening:

-"Your wiener is so cute!"  Men HATE it when you call their junk "cute".  If he’s Jewish, be sure to note that he has a kosher wiener. Or, if hooking up with a Chinaman, call it a “Wang” and tug on the corner of your eyes while hissing “You like flied lice?” And I’ve found that black men don’t particularly like it when you refer to their penis as a “G-g-g-G UNIT!”

-"Don’t you love my new veneers? They look great, but my teeth are so sharp!" Elaborate using words like “shred” and “puncture”, and make many analogies to the recent Florida shark attacks.

-"I never knew you could get herpes of the hands, but there you go!" Drive the point home with a needlessly complex story about your “Summer of the Goats” on your Uncle Tucker's farm in rural Kentucky.

-"Can you help me put in my diaphragm?" Look, I don’t even know what the hell a diaphragm is. But I think they’re roughly the size and shape of a Frisbee and have something to do with electromagnetism. Chances are, he doesn’t know either. Just pull a random object out of your purse, like an eggbeater or bottle of Nyquil, and lay it expectantly in his hand. When he hesitates, burst into a smile and say, "Oh, Nick! I knew you wanted to have a baby!" This works especially well if his name isn’t Nick.

-"Guess what I have back at my place…?" His eyes will light up eagerly, visions of whipped cream and lesbian twins dancing in his wee head. Wait a few beats to up the anticipation, and then slap your limp wrist against your chest and slur, “Durrrrrrrr”!!! Do this again and again, upping the ante each time, adding drool, a mild seizure, and maybe even a pants crapping or two for good measure.

-"Damn, I'm ITCHY AS A MOTHERFUCKER!!" That's it. Works like a charm.


As you can see, it’s no easy task successfully diffusing a boner. But with good communication and a little thing I like to call “fake cramps”, you’ll be in a cab and on your way home in no time! Done and done!

Snagging Mr. McDreamyballs

Listen up kiddies; the following is geared toward the ladies, but it applies to men too, so don't be discouraged guys! You can snag your very own dream girl using the same exact strategy. Read on.......

I like LOVE guys. I love their clothes, their company, their scents and their (wink) appendages. Being that I spend around one third of my life in poker rooms, most of my friends are men. I think they like hanging out with because even though I love the color pink, freak out at the sight of a spider and most of my shoes are 6" stillettos, I'm not the "delicate flower" type AT ALL. I play poker, use the word "cunt" freely and would prefer Red Sox tickets over flowers any day. I can also stuff some ones in a thong with the best of 'em. Yup... I'm a cool chick.

Because they can be themselves around me, guys enjoy my company and let me in on their secret world. Like many women with mostly male friends, however, I do not have a boyfriend. For some reason my complete and flawless understanding of the male mind does not make me more attractive to them. What DOES make me more attractive to the boys is the fact that I am nuts. Yup. Mad as a hatter, that's me. Cuckoo! Cuckoo!

Men love crazy women! They can't get enough of us! Not crazy as in kooky, quirky, shoot from the hip crazy... but crazy as in foaming at the mouth, pig-fucking, straightjacket wearing, "They're coming to take me away hee hee, they're coming to take me away ha ha.." crazy. Until yesterday I thought it was a coincidence that all of my friends have dated psychos. But then my friend TJ mentioned he would 'beat it' in reference to this schizophrenic chick we know. Or did he say 'smash it'...?  Oh well, doesn't matter. Point is; it dawned on me in that moment that there was a pattern here. I pried a little bit and, yep, it's true: rumor in the men's department is that crazy chicks are the absolute best in bed, and therefore, Grade A Prime Man Magnets.
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So, you're probably asking yourself, "How do I get my hands on a ticket for a cruise on the 'SS Crazy Chick'? I could use a little BAH CHICKA WAH WAH!". Well, relax ladies, I've got you covered. Using, ummm, absolutely no personal experience at all, a lot of poker table man-gossip and my best friend's diary (sorry Dana), here's a guide to scoring Mr. McDreamyballs and eventually turning him into a straight up broken mess who will never question 'Why?', but simply accept and worship you for the lunatic you are. Okay, nutbags-to-be, let's begin! Welcome to Crazy Chick 101...

The First Two Dates: Play it cool. Do the flirty, manipulative things normal girls do like ask prying questions about his past relationships and take food off his plate without asking (doing it with your hands is a bonus). Make sure not to give away any details about where you work, who your friends are, or what you like to do. Men love overbearing yet vague women.

Third Date: This is traditionally the 'sex' date, but you should pretend like he's not going to get any at all. Only let him kiss you on the cheek and keep three feet away from him at all times. Wait until he's turning around to go home then call him back, take him upstairs and pull out all stops. Make sure it's some nasty, wild, ass-slapping, hair-pulling, household pet-utilizing super sex. You have a reputation to uphold.

HOT TIP: A nice variation on this is giving a killer blowjob on the second date then refusing to sleep with him for six months, saying that you need to 'get to know him better.' **Improper boundary issues = man catnip. ROWWRRR!


Fourth Date: He's hooked. It's time to start singing, and a lot. It doesn't matter what kind of voice you have, just make sure to be enthusiastic. Preface this by asking him coyly what he thought of you on your first date. After he answers that, he'll ask you what you thought of him. This is your cue to fall backwards so he'll have to catch you, throw open your arms and let out a loud, major chord, "WELL---" Launch into a snappy, Broadway-esque song and dance number that gives a step by step description of your relationship so far. Make sure to rhyme 'carving knife' with 'loving wife' at some point. Sing often. In the car, at the bar, in bed. Sing an epic poem about the adventures of your cats. Sing angry grrrl power songs about that time he forgot to call you. Sing sad songs about the summer you were bulimic. Sing! If for some reason he puts on music, just hum or whistle a different song over it. (Think Twinkle Twinkle Little Star over Black Dog by Led Zeppelin.)


Fifth Date: Find a new hobby or belief system. Go extreme: kelp farming, furry sex, veganism, Scientology . Insist that he join you. Try to get his friends involved. Create and photocopy your own brochures to bring to his poker games. Find his mom's address and mail her some copies. Don't be shy!
                                                                                                      
Seventh Date: This is the perfect date to have a Reconciliation Party. Issue paper invitations to his friends and family with a full text description of what he did wrong and what habits he changed to get you back. Decorate excessively. Go to a party store and have them do that thing where they put photos of your faces on balloons. Do not invite anyone that you've known for more than 72 hours. Invite strangers and casual acquaintances and treat them like soulmates.   
You: "This is Pablo. We met in the subway station yesterday and he told me the most moving story about a lost pickle. Next week I'm going to Guatemala to meet his family."
Pablo: "Que dice, loca?"

Eighth Date: You two are well on your way to a long relationship full of bliss and spontaneity. Get any major body modifications you want done now, so he has time to get used to them. Gang tattoos, clit piercings and pinky amputations are good ways to keep things interesting. Consider using lit cigarettes to etch a floral pattern onto your back. Be creative!

If you're worried about slipping up and falling out of character, don't be!  Craziness is like riding a bike. After a while, being unbalanced will seem natural to you. You'll be sleeping with his nephew, eating cat litter and taking his last name in no time. If he dumps you, use your state of sanity as an excuse to mail him envelopes stuffed with the flayed hides of small animals. He'll be crawling back soon! Literally. Because when his buddies catch wind of what you've been up to, they're gonna kick his ass for being such an easy target. Then you can introduce him to your wood chipper.  Bye bye, Mr. McDreamyballs, hello Mr. McChippynuts!

Okay ladies, you ready? Let's go score us a man minion!