Like Sex for Chocolate

What’s the big deal about sex?

Why has it built and toppled empires, ruined the lives and careers of world figures from Eliot Spitzer to Adam and Eve, and dominated the thoughts and actions of people throughout all of recorded time?

After all, it’s nothing more than a transitory pleasurable experience in a relatively small part of the body.

Eating chocolate, on the other hand, produces a much more sustained period of pleasure which extends from your mouth and taste buds all the way down to your tummy!

Sometimes I wish rather than sex chocolate were our primary motivating drive.  

 “Hey, Brad,” I said to my buddy the other day. “How was your date last night? You eat chocolate with her?”

“What do you think, dude?  Dark chocolate, milk chocolate, you name it.  She even.…umm....truffled me!”

“Wow!” Not every woman will do that.

“Seems like you’re eating chocolate with a lot of different women these days,” I said. “What’s your secret?”

“Once you get ‘em into your apartment, you put on the soft music, pour on the charm, then bring out the Godiva! Before you know it you’re both headed up the Hershey Highway, and she's loving those nuts!’’

I had to admit I was jealous.

I hadn’t eaten chocolate with a woman in years. Frankly, I’d been spending a lot of time at home on a website featuring this super hot redhead taking on an entire Whitman’s Sampler!

Naturally the whole time I’m frantically pounding down M&Ms.

Come on, don’t act so shocked!  Like you haven't done that too!

Just about every guy on the planet wants to eat chocolate with as many attractive women as he can as often as he can. 

Kinsey and Masters & Johnson tell us that women love chocolate just as much as men do, but most women want to be in love with a guy before they’ll hop on his Mounds or eat his Almond Joy!

Oh, Fudge it all!

Even in the chocolate world, men are from Mars and women are from Hershey's!


When It's Your Turn to Speak, DON'T!

When it's your turn to speak .... DON'T!

Until you read the list below.

Gleaned from my over 30 years of avoiding public speaking,  here are:

Twenty Essential Rules for Outstanding Public Speaking Even You Can't Screw Up

1)  Show up.

2)  Bring own scotch.

3)  Prepare!  Prepare !  Prepare!  To Die! To Die! To Die! 

4)  Imagine you are Morgan Freeman.

5) Suck up shamelessly to the meeting host, especially if the host is me.

6) Mingle with the audience and attempt to learn issues relevant to the group to incorporate into your presentation. Also try to connect with some undiscriminating hottie.

7) Keep in mind audience members are on your side and want you to do well. Except for the ones who don’t.

8) Don't shout "Turkey Neck, Turkey Neck" to audience members who look like Mitch McConnell.

9) Exhibit excellent posture. If audience members begin shouting  "Esmeralda! Esmeralda!"  and "Sanctuary! Sanctuary!" I'd look into it.

10) Actually be Morgan Freeman.

11) Open speech with amusing anecdote about leaden containment structures.

12)  Don't spit when you speak, but if you do, make sure to hit the fat guy in the second row.

13) Avoid corny cliches. That way your presentation will be out of this world!

14) Only speak in ancient Sumerian when discussing critical Best Practices points.

15) Avoid addressing B'nai B'rith group decked out in full Nazi regalia.

16) Don't respond to questions with "What do you think I look like – Wikipedia?"

17) Stop eating huge rind of gorgonzola cheese when coming to the conclusion.

18)  Although counter-intuitive, don't wrap up presentation with a pitch for Amway products.

19) Always leave 'em with the old soft shoe! 

20)  If you haven't already, check fly.  Zip as appropriate.


Of Mammaries and the Movies, or My Take on Tits

At no point in the classic Hitchcock film “Northwest by Northwest” do we witness star Gary Grant’s bare butt writhing and thrusting on top of a naked Eva Marie Saint as he caresses her undulating breasts.

That's because “North by Northwest” was made in the 1950's, before people began having sex.

Or at least began having sex in the movies.

What the audience sees instead is the train they’re traveling on roar into a tunnel, the sight of which impelled me to beg my parents for years to take me on train trips that included lots of tunnels.
Back in the 50's and early 60’s, the epitome of celluloid sex was a profile shot of the rapidly maturing Mouseketeer Annette Funicello turning sideways or a glimpse of Barbara Eden's navel on a day the “I Dream of Jeanie” makeup man ran out of putty.

Nowadays I know every square inch of Anne Hathaway's anatomy almost as well as does the Jewish guy she married!  

It was 1968 when naked boobs first came to neighborhood movie screens. I couldn't believe my eyes when I saw what looked like eyes when a hot young blonde nonchalantly peeled off her top in the movie “Here We Go Round the Mulberry Bush.”

I raced home and threw my entire collection of National Geographics in the trash.

Boobs thereupon began bouncing abundantly anywhere and everywhere on the silver screen.

Nowadays everything goes in the movies including any sense of propriety.  It's a rare film that doesn't feature Mark Ruffalo hammering Julianne MooreNatalie Portman switching teams with Mila Kunis, or Paul Reubens responding in kind in the audience.

But these days except when either the film - or my mood - truly calls for sex, I’d just as soon watch “Frozen.”

No, I'm not suggesting we return to the days of Cary Grant and Eva Marie Saint acting like saints until the rapid approach of a well-timed tunnel. There were layers of reality and story-telling lost due to the sensitivities of the times. But there was also something discrete and respectful that’s missing today that helped make many of the older films classics.

It has never been my burning passion to turn on Turner Classic Movies and see Ethel Barrymore or Margaret Hamilton frolicking nude on a beach. The great screwball comedies starring the likes of Gary Grant and Katherine Hepburn are better without the alternate connotations of “screw” and “ball.”

And as for classics like “Casablanca?” 

"Did you leave me for Lazlo because he had a bigger penis?"

"No, Rick, I left you because Victor Lazlo is my husband.  Because he’s a great man and a great leader of our cause. And he has a bigger penis."

Nah, gimme my film classics straight - unabridged, crotch-less, boob-free and with a minimum of writhing.

I'm glad I got to see Isabella Rossellini's tits in “Blue Velvet.”

But I'm even gladder I never got to see her mom's.


No comments: